Sunday in The Park 1944

By John I. Blair

From their urine-reeking cages
The ragged lions cough and roar.
Two ancient, toothy alligators
Down in their round and moated pit
Bask in the August heat.
Wattled muscovies and graceful drakes
Paddle on the iron-fenced pond.

Scents of cotton candy, buttered popcorn,
Tease me on the overwhelming air.

Once more I gape
At the massive bronzy cannon
Chased with delicate designs,
Guarded by a stolid statue;
I dream exciting stories
For the stuccoed chinese temple
(Built for renting baby strollers,
Shuttered tight before my birth).

Mom is wearing linen slacks,
I’m in a jumper,
Dad slouches in his old brown suit;
My brother sports a sailor’s cap.

Snapped by Uncle Lester’s Kodak
We will forever wrinkle noses
At the pungent odors, forever
Cock ears to exotic sounds,
Forever squint in the brilliant light,
Forever pose in black and white.

©2004 John I. Blair